


What's In The Bag?

by orphan_account



Series: Who's The Oldest? [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Batkids Age Reversal, Birthday Cake, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Jason Todd is Bad at Feelings, Jason is getting there, just a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “So,” Jason says, combing his fingers through his hair. “What do you want? And what’s with the bag?”He shifts his weight. It had seemed like a good idea five minutes ago, but actually standing in front of Jason was draining his confidence. He really didn’t want a repeat of last year. His leg took four weeks to heal.“So, because it’s, you know, your birthday and all,” Dick cringed. He sounds pathetic. His heart is pounding in his ears, and he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I, uh… I brought you a cake?”-----Jason is on an emotional rollercoaster. Dick just wants to celebrate his older brother's birthday. Preferably without getting shot.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Who's The Oldest? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921234
Comments: 6
Kudos: 215





	What's In The Bag?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! No major trigger warnings, though there is a slight bit of emotional hurt. And cursing. There's always cursing. Thank you for reading! I hope you like it!

Dick knows Bruce is gonna lecture him the next morning. Or maybe even tonight, depending on how fast word spreads. Nightwing spotted running across Gotham rooftops in the middle of the day, carrying a white plastic bag is not exactly common. 

But, he _does_ have a good reason!

It’s Jason’s birthday. And it’s his twentieth birthday. He’s no longer a teenager, that’s a big milestone! 

And not only that, it’s the first time Dick will actually get to celebrate with his brother. They all missed the first fourteen, Dick was somewhere in Africa for his fifteenth, and well… Jason never made it to his sixteenth. 

The two boys hadn’t exactly gotten along during his holiday stay at the manor. Jason’s slight hero-worship only helped increase the tensions between himself and Bruce. He knew Jason resented him for the arguments. After all, they only started with his arrival. Not to mention the awkward dance they were in the whole time, with Jason trying to be an older sibling and Dick trying to teach him how to survive being both Robin and a Wayne. 

He failed, and Jason died only four months after he left. 

During those months they only saw each other once, and that itself was only through a facetime call. It’d actually been… kind of nice. He’d started small talk with Jason while they waited for Bruce, just asking about school, only for them to end up gossiping about the kids at Gotham Academy for an hour. The next morning Jason woke up to an email composed of a phone number and a smiley face. 

When Dick returned, the first person he’d asked after was Jason. No calls for over half a year meant he was antsy, his mind shuffling through the ever-growing list of ways he’d toppled their delicate balance. It was when Alfred’s face whitened that he considered the other possibilities. 

A day he’d hoped to spend watching TV and telling Jason about his recent trip to Mongolia ended with him running out of the house only three hours after he arrived. 

The Joker gifted him with a grief-heavy heart. Bruce gave him a bruised face. 

The next thing he remembers is Wally yelling at him in the alley behind a South Korean mall. No one knows what he was doing during the weeks he was MIA, but the scabs on his knuckles are still some of the worst he’s had in his entire life. 

So, yeah. No sweet sixteen. 

Then there was the whole _dead_ thing and then the _murderer_ thing, which left no one in a celebratory mood. This will be the first year he’s on slightly-good terms with his brother. Hence the cake. And _Dick Grayson_ can’t exactly just waltzed into an abandoned warehouse without drawing some attention. 

Landing on the roof of his destination with a roll, Dick peaked inside the bag. Despite his acrobatics, the cake only seems a little banged up, some of the red frosting getting smashed into the sides of the clear container. The cake itself is vanilla and strawberry, his brother’s two favorite flavors.

(At least, that’s what Roy had said. He’s learned through experience to take anything the archer tells him about Jason with a grain of salt.)

A hop and he’s over the side of the building, crouching on the building’s fire escape. He types his code into the security panel hidden inside the plant box. After months of coming home only to find that Dick picked the lock or hacked into his security system, Jason finally gave in, adding in Dick’s very own entry password. That also meant that if the code didn’t work, Jason had specifically locked him out. 

(It helps set boundaries.) 

Pulling open the door, Dick stepped onto the catwalk. While from the outside it looked like just another small rundown warehouse in the district, Jason had managed to make it more like a live-in version of the Batcave. 

“Jay?” Dick called as he slid down the railing of the spiral staircase. “Little Wing, I know you’re here.” 

Jason steps out of the small bathroom, a towel around his neck. “I thought I told you to stop calling me that, kid.” 

“And I told _you_ to stop calling me ‘kid’,” he says, hopping onto the floor. 

“You _are_ a kid,” Jason replies, pointing at Dick. He turns his finger towards his own chest. “I, on the other hand, am older, taller, and stronger than you. There’s nothing ‘little’ about me.” 

Dick scrunches his nose. He really doesn’t need to hear any innuendos about his brother. Just as he’s opening his mouth to tell Jason as much, a towel hits him the face. Dick pulled it off with a disgusted grimace, revealing Jason’s smirk. “Get your head out of the gutter, you’re not even legal.” 

“Yes, I am! I’m an adult,” he argues, throwing the towel back at his brother. 

“Mhm, and for how long?” 

“Five months, I thought you knew my birt-” 

“Proving my point, Goldie, try again when you can drink,” Jason says, waving away his protests that _he_ can’t drink. 

Dick watches as Jason drys his hair off with the towel before neatly folding it and placing it in a basket on the table beside him. Jason had always been the neat one in the family, besides Alfred. Dick, Tim, and Bruce were more often than not too tired or busy to bother. 

It really says a lot about their family that _Jason_ has the best sleep schedule. He bets it's all Kori, everyone knows Roy doesn't sleep.

“So,” Jason says, combing his fingers through his hair. “What do you want? And what’s with the bag?” 

He shifts his weight. It had seemed like a good idea five minutes ago, but actually standing in front of Jason was draining his confidence. He really didn’t want a repeat of last year. His leg took four weeks to heal. 

“So, because it’s, you know, your birthday and all,” Dick cringed. He sounds pathetic. His heart is pounding in his ears, and he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I, uh… I brought you a cake?” 

“Dick,” Jason says, actually standing upright. Here it comes. “It’s not my birthday.” 

Oh. That was not what he’d expected. 

“Um, yes it is.” He corrected. Dick had checked with Bruce, Alfred, Leslie, Kori, _and_ Roy this morning. 

“I would think I know my own fucking birthday,” Jason argues, crossing his arms. 

“Well, _obviously_ not.” 

Pulling out his phone, Dick opened the calendar app. “Here, look. August 16th.” 

Jason took his phone from his outstretched hand, staring at it for a long moment. “You have a notification for my birthday?” The older whispered. 

Guess they’re not addressing the whole forgetting-his-own-fucking-birthday thing. Figures.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m actually really bad at remembering birthdays, so I do the whole reminders and notifications stuff. It really is helpfu-” 

“Dickie bird, you’re rambling,” Jason says, still staring at his phone. “Stop it, it’s annoying.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Dick mutters, looking at his feet. He’s never been a timid person before, but he always feels so teeth-grindingly awkward interacting with Jason outside of an argument.

His brother sighed, dropping his arms to his side. “Come on, there are plates in the kitchen.”

* * *

“So,” Jason starts, putting down his plate of cake. Roy and Kori had taken a case today, promising to get wasted and watch Pride and Prejudice tonight. He’d hoped to spend his free time reading, not babysitting one of the Bat Brats. Screw Dick and his reminders and smiley face emojis. “I heard you’re in college.” 

Dick looks up from across the couch. They’d barely gotten to know each other before he had died. The younger had been both a cool older brother and a resented, annoying stranger. He’s not exactly sure what Dick is now. Part of him (quite a large part, in fact) hates Dick, the ever-perfect golden child, always taking Bruce’s favoritism for granted. And don’t get him started on the new robin or his little girlfriend. But yet, another part of him hisses every time Dick stutters (Up until a few months ago, he didn’t think Dickhead was even capable of stuttering.) or the Replacement flinches away from him. It whispers that Tim is only sixteen, barely older than he was when he died. That Dick is younger than he was when he started as Red Hood. 

“Yeah. It’s fine, I guess.” Dick says, playing with his fork. “I like my classes.” 

That causes him to raise an eyebrow. “I thought you hated all that business bullshit. You certainly groan about it enough.” 

“Oh, I’m not taking business classes or whatever. That’s just what I told B so he’d get off my back.” Dick admitted, waving his hand back and forth. 

“Goldie finally defying daddy bat?” He smirked, but it felt more like a smile. Red Hood smiling at Nightwing? He’s getting soft. “I never thought I’d see the day.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dick says, sitting up a bit. “I’m majoring in Psychology with a minor in Social Work.” 

“...Really? Didn’t think that was your kinda thing.” Jason says, sitting up himself. 

( _You don’t have the slightest clue what his kinda thing is._ )

( _And I don’t care._ )

“The whole juvenile detention thing inspired me. I want to help kids so they don’t end up like I did, you know?” Dick shrugged, shifting a bit as he stabbed a bite of cake. 

No, he really doesn’t know. In fact, he’s very, _very_ lost. That doesn’t stifle the small flicker of pride.

“Damn, good for you.” 

Dick blinks. “Oh. Uh, thanks?” 

Why does that make him feel even worse? He hates feeling guilty about shit he shouldn’t.

“You know, Jay, you should go to college.” Dick mused. 

What? The? Fuck? 

“Shit, that came out wrong,” Dick moaned, setting down his plate. Jason tried to school his face into something more neutral. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. I just mean that- well when we were kids, back before, and, yes, I know things have changed, but you were so excited to go to college and become an English teacher-”

Dick’s voice fades into the background as Jason fumbles. He remembers that Jason had been excited to go to college. Hell, he remembers what job Jason had wanted. Jason can’t even remember how old Dick was at the time. The Lazarus Pit messed with his memories more than a little bit. That conversation had to have been, what, five years ago? And god… he hasn’t even considered not being Red Hood, being more than Red Hood. Roy has Lian and Kori is a fucking princess, he has, what? A pair of very messed up not-little brothers, two more-than-friends, and a shitty not-dad? Some books? 

“-ay? Jason! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up, are you okay? Fuck, and it’s your birthday and everything, I’m so sorry.” Dick was still talking, eyes wide. 

If he felt guilty before, it’s nothing compared to now, because damn it, the kid is _trying_. He’s doing more than Bruce has ever done, not that that’s exactly hard. He tried to kill the kid’s little brother. Dick has told him in graphic detail what will happen if he ever even thinks of hurting Replacement again, and yet he’s still _here_. _He came_. 

Before Jason can respond, his phone dings. 

“Okay, Dickface, get out, people I like are coming over.”


End file.
